


His Butler, Insubordinate

by Pi (Rhea)



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-23
Updated: 2011-11-23
Packaged: 2017-10-26 11:30:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/282538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhea/pseuds/Pi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian is not, in fact, a proper butler. Written for kink bingo prompt "masters doms slaves & subs". Warning for intent and suggestive actions involving an underage child (no sex, and everyone's clothes remain on).</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Butler, Insubordinate

Sebastian doesn't follow orders. Or he does but never the way Ciel wants. Or almost never. A proper butler would bring their master chocolate when they asked for it. He wouldn't question his lords request. Wouldn't suggest it was childish, that it might "ruin his dinner". Ciel is not a child. Ciel is the last of the Phantomhives and he will be obeyed. Sebastian has the gall to smile at that statement.  
"Of course, my Lord" he says and bows.

He leaves the room, presumably to get the chocolate though Ciel is sure he will dust the china, and clean the silver before returning from the kitchen because "a butler wouldn't leave his lords silverwear dirty" never mind that he was ordered to bring chocolate, not to polish silver. With all the incompetents Ciel has to put up with he would at least expect Sebastian of the decency to _do as he was told._ But Ciel has grown to understand this much. He saves his _orders_ for when they are important. He lets Sebastian have his way, a little bit of slack rope on which to hang himself. If he is the perfect butler, as he so claims, one day all his little deciets will come back to haunt him. Ciel saves them up, mental categories of every time Sebastian has failed. It reminds him not to trust, not to believe. Belief in the devil is the most dangerous thing there is. And Sebastian would make it so easy. But Ciel is better than that, stronger and smarter.

He flips through the rest of the paper work. The company is in good standing. His job for today is done. He has a violin lesson in an hour, where Sebstian will taunt him elegantly and then a dance lesson the hour after that. Ciel looks at the clock and wonders what will keep the Madam this day. She's missed their last three practices. Sebastian probably probably pushed her down the stairs for an excuse to put his hands on Ciel's small shoulders. The thought makes Ciel smile, though he doesn't like how small dancing with Sebastian makes him feel. At least Sebastian is an accomplished dancer, perhaps even better than the Madam. Ciel still hates dancing.

Ciel's halfway through a chess game with himself when Sebastian returns.  
"My lord." he bows at the door. Ciel carelessly waves him in.  
"Did you bring the chocolate?"  
"Yes, my lord. But don't you think we should have your violin lesson first. That way you don't ruin the violin with sticky fingers?" Ciel glares.  
"I'll have the chocolate now please. If you have a problem with my fingers, find a towel for me." Sebastian holds out the chocolate. Ciel grasps one end but Sebastian doesn't let go for a moment. Then he smirks pushing the chocolate into Ciel's hand.  
"Of course, my lord." Sebastian bows slightly, not nearly as much as is respectable, and leaves the room.

Sebastian is always respectable in front of others. The perfect angle of bow, the exact required deference, the elegance of rich taste and restraint. This is how Ciel is sure Sebastian knows what he's doing, if the pleased gleam in Sebastian's eye wasn't tell tale enough. Sebastian thinks he's, what, _cute?_. His little lord. It makes Ciel grind his teeth and give petulant orders he knows only further Sebastian's beliefs. But if Sebastian is going to treat him like that the butler might as well dust the chandeliers in the foyer. Certainly no one else can because they don't have a ladder that tall. Ciel wont ask how Sebastian did it, but the entry way will be much brighter then next time Ciel returns and perhaps that little bit of light is worth it. It isn't.

Ciel wants to ask Sebastian, "Just whom do you listen to?" But perhaps he doesn't want the answer because Ciel's eye hurts every time he orders Sebastian with force. It's not a physical pain, but a mental one, the knowledge that perhaps Sebastian would have left him, bleeding on the floor of a gangster lair, or trapped a bird in a cage to sing for the deviants at Druitt's party. Sebastian is sworn to protect him and Sebastian owns his soul. Ciel doesn't consider the the authority ownership over someone's soul must mean. For now Ciel has his soul, and he will not let Sebastian's games take that from him.

The chocolate is sweet on his tongue, and perhaps his fingers are a little sticky, but only on the one hand. Sebastian returns, a look of sorrowful self deprication on his face.  
"I'm terribly sorry, my lord, but all the towels are in the wash." Ciel stares at him. Sebastian probably just started a load of laundry, perhaps including clean towels just to be able to say this. Ciel smiles. Let Sebastian see the outcome of his games.  
"Well then, clearly we cannot have lessons today. And if that is the case, you are dismissed." Sebastian's stricken expression would almost be amusing except Ciel can see it is false.  
"My young lord, surely you cannot-" Ciel spreads his hands wide,  
"I see no other option. I think I shall go take a walk in the garden." Ceil shoves his chair back and stands. Only Sebastian's smiling and it's a real smile. The sort of smile that implies sharp teeth and gives chills to lesser men.

Ciel doesn't tremble but meets Sebastian's eye curiously. With all his truthfulness wrapped in deceit Ciel never can precisely know Sebastian's goals or motives. The butler claims to have his best interest, his protection, his goals in mind. Sebastian claims to never lie and perhaps all these things are true. But if they statements are true they are also irrefutably untrue facts. Sebastian's best interests are never Ciel's and Ciel's protection is only as important as Ciel's life. A body can be damaged and the soul still clean. Ciel learned that before he ever met Sebastian. Ciel's goals are Sebastian's as long as they are orders.  
"What would you have me do?" Ciel asks. And he knows it's a dangerous question, weighted more expensively than the case bearing the Stratovarius by Sebastian's feet.  
"Come here." Sebastian says. It's close to an order, Ciel looks at him coldly. He holds back the words _why should I?_ because they would make Sebastian smile wider.

He walks over slowly. Sebastian drops to one knee. "Give me your hand." Ciel slowly extends his hand. Sebastian takes it in his own. His hands are still twice the size of Ciel's. Carefully Sebastian raises Ciel's hand to his lips. For a moment Ciel is sure Sebastian is going to kiss his hand, as Ciel does when he's introduced to ladies of good standing. Instead Sebastian's tongue darts out and not unlike a cat he quickly and deftly cleans Ciel's fingers. Ciel stamps down on the impulse to pull his hand away as if burned.

Sebastian lets go and Ciel eyes him with disbelief.  
"You believe that leaves my hand clean?" Ciel wipes his fingers against his shorts. "Who knows where your mouth has been. They say the dogs have cleaner mouthes than humans."  
Sebastian smiles, "And yet someday you will have to kiss Lady Elizabeth."  
"What I will do with my mouth is none of your business. If you're going to be so lewd perhaps we'd better get on with the lesson." Ciel snaps snatching up the violin case.  
Sebastian tucks his arm below his chest and bows forward, still kneeling. "Whatever you say, my Lord." Ciel glares at the top of Sebastian's head.  
"I do say, now stand up." Sebastian rises with that _fond_ expression again. Instead of yelling, or other such childish behavior, Ciel savagegly snaps the clasps on the violin case, though he's certain to take the instrument out gently. Sebastian arranges the sheet music and puts on his glasses. Ciels fingers are still slightly sticky, but they're probably clean enough. If he purposefully plays badly it's no more than Sebastian deserves.


End file.
